


It Makes A Man Feel Good Baby

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-29
Updated: 2007-01-29
Packaged: 2019-05-31 03:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15111149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: When she was close, Sam forgot everything except how she made him feel.





	It Makes A Man Feel Good Baby

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: The line Sam recites is from the Derek Walcott poem Bleecker Street, Summer.  


* * *

Sam came in on a snowy night in early December and found Tish dancing alone. It was not even the usual dancing; it was definitely something that required a partner. He tried to be quiet, closed and locked the door softly. He just leaned against the wall and watched her. It did not seem to bother her much that she was alone, and it did not affect the flow of the rhythm. She was definitely a good dancer. Sam clapped when the music ended; that caused Tish to jump. She wanted to know how long he was watching.

“Long enough. Are you taking samba lessons?”

“As a matter of face Sparky, yes. Five staffers are taking dance lessons for the February issue. I got samba. So, you want to play voyeur…how did I look?”

“Fantastic. I don’t know how overjoyed I am about some guy dancing that dance with you.”

“A certified dance instructor.” Tish said. “Samba is not for the uninitiated.”

“Some gorgeous Latin guy with an amazing body who touches you too much.”

“Sam, do you realized you just described yourself? Except for the Latin thing.”

“Why dance lessons anyway? I thought you were the art director.”

Sam sat down in the one of the overstuffed chairs that now filled the room. It surprised him how much he loved their new furniture. Tish even kept the black and ivory theme though overstuffed furniture and halogen lamps now filled the room. His paintings still hung on the walls…this room was an excellent indication of their combined tastes.

“Its an up and coming magazine Sam; everyone has to pitch in and help. I'm really starting to get this joy out of writing. I dabbled in high school and college, but now I've been doing so much.”

Tish still wrote for the CityPaper. At the end of the week, she and Sam would be at the Spinner Gallery for a showing by Tamika Gardner, and up and coming painter who received major buzz behind her new works.

“You're good at it.” Sam said of her writing. She was good at everything.

“Thanks. C’mere, I want to dance.”

“Aw Tish, you know that…”

“Get over here Mr. Seaborn.”

Ambrosia was playing on the stereo and Tish pulled Sam out of the chair. He slid his arms around her waist; this was the easy part. Saying silent prayers that he wouldn’t step on her socked feet, he tried to relax and follow the melody. Sam Seaborn had two left feet…he didn’t know why, he just did. Tish held onto him tight though and seemed to know where to guide her feet so as not to end up under his. It was probably the first uninterrupted dance he’d had since he started the ritual. She kissed him; that interrupted the flow but he still managed to keep his feet to himself.

The song ended and Siouxsie and the Banshees started singing Kiss Them for Me. Tish pulled away from him, dancing on her own. Sam couldn’t help but stare at her…the way her hips swayed. The movement of her arms, her breasts, and her ass. She was a limber woman and the Deputy appreciated that more than he could ever truly say. She started using belly dance movements; it nearly put Sam in a trance. He watched her lift the tee shirt over her head and slide out of her lounge pants. Her underwear rarely matched, all part of her allure, and tonight was nowhere different. In blue bikini panties and an orange polka dot bra, Tish danced. She moved closer to Sam, gyrating her body on his. He tried to take hold of her hips but that was not part of the game. This was about watching and enjoying. He was definitely enjoying.

“I've never liked dancing.” He said. “Until now.”

“Tell me you’ve never been to a strip show.”

Blondie was on now, Debbie Harry’s voice perfect for this kind of show.

“Never.”

“Liar.”

“I'm serious. It’s a very intimidating place for a guy like me.”

“So you’ve never had a lap dance Sparky?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“Sit down.”

He wanted to know if the couch was OK and Tish nodded. She took off her bra; that made him smile. The woman’s body drove him out of his mind. When she was close, Sam forgot everything except how she made him feel.

“Hands at your side big boy.”

Sam smiled as turned on Creep. She danced on the other side of the room for a little while before moving closer to him. He was stiff as she straddled him, moving her hand down his chest.

“Relax Samuel, this won't hurt a bit.”

She pressed her naked breasts on his chest and ran her fingers through his hair. Sitting up she moved her breasts in his face, running her hands down his arms. Tish gyrated on his erection causing Sam to groan and reach for her.

“Don’t touch.” She whispered.

She turned her body around, pressing her ass against his erection. Sam groaned again and craned his neck to watch her squeeze her breasts. Pressing more and more on his body, Sam gripped the couch until his knuckles were white. Tish was now on her knees. He smiled as she ran her hands down his neck and chest, down to his slacks. Her hand ran across the bulge repeatedly before mouthing it.

“Jesus Christ.” Sam threw his head back.

As quickly as it started, Tish was standing away from him. Sam looked at her through hooded eyelids.

“That’s a lap dance…give or take. Some like to take it higher or lower, depending on…”

She could not even finish her sentence before Sam grabbed her and wrestled her onto the couch. Tish laughed hysterically as he kissed her.

“Gee, did you like it?”

“It was fantastic.” Sam began to undress.

Tish helped him out of his jacket and tie before unbuttoning his dress shirt. He kissed her more, moving her thighs apart and resting his body there. He pulled Tish’s hair out of its messy ponytail. She laughed as he struggled to get out of his pants.

“Slow down Sparky, we have all the time in the world.”

“I really want you.” He said, kissing her. “You are so damn sexy.”

“So are you.”

He bit her shoulder and Tish moaned. He sat up on the couch, pulling her on top of him. Tish sucked his bottom lip as their kisses intensified. She could taste the Diet Coke he probably drank quickly with dinner.

“Tell me you want me Sam.” She worked her hands around the elastic of his boxer briefs.

“I want you.”

“No one but me?”

“Damn right.”

“And I'm your sexy bitch?”

“My very sexy bitch. I want to do you on the floor.”

Tish laughed. They moved to the floor, Sam on top of her. When he thrust, Tish cried out and gripped his back. They were moving together, one body. The music of Smashing Pumpkins distracted Sam for a few moments.

“Oh Sam! Ohhh!”

OK, that brought him back. Back to Tish underneath him, calling his name, bucking her hips to meet his thrusts.

“Oh God! Yeah honey, yeah, oh yeah, yeah!”

“Fuck me harder!”

Sam balanced himself on his palms, driving into her body with all of his strength. Tish arched her back and groaned.

“Does that feel good?” Sam whispered. “Is that how you like it?” 

Whoa, where did that come from? He liked that…would have to add it to his repertoire.

“Oh yes. Its good…good, good, good!”

Tish felt herself falling; she held on tighter to Sam. Her body shivered and he loved the way that made him feel. They came together and Sam fell against her. She kissed him.

“I love you so much.” She said.

“I love you too. Are you alright; is this hurting your back?”

“You better not move. I'm fine.”

“I just don't want to hurt you.”

“Oh hush.”

She kissed him again and looked at him. Really looked at him.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing at all. I'm so happy Sam. I'm…its hard for me to express.”

“I didn’t think anything was hard for you to express.”

Sam pulled out, resting on his side beside her. Tish closed her eyes and smiled as his fingers traced her skin.

“Some things are.”

“Like what?”

“Sparky, that’s what hard to express means. I can't always put it into words.”

“Sing it for me.”

Tish turned her head, looked at his straight face, and laughed.

“Don’t be a goofball.”

“Well I don’t want to be goofy but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do know. Sometimes its more than words can express, you know?”

While Sam understood, it was hard for him to comprehend. Words were his life and they filled him in a way that nothing could until he saw Tish at that party.

“I would undress you in the summer heat, and laugh and dry your damp flesh if you came.” He said.

Her brown eyes widened.

“Oh my God, you just quoted Derek Walcott.”

“I think it appropriate it, don’t you?”

“Um…I um…no man has ever quoted poetry to me before. Do you even know how much I love Derek Walcott? I don’t even like poetry but I love him. I can't believe you do too.”

“He is amazing and it doesn’t surprise me that you love him. The fact that a man has never quoted poetry to you just means you weren’t with the right man.”

“I am now.”

“Most definitely.”

Sam pulled her close, kissing her mouth thoroughly. They got up from the floor and went to their bed. Sam held her in his arms and recited Derek Walcott poems from memory until they both fell asleep.

***


End file.
